


Darkness

by Amorphe_Hexe



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Depression, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-27
Updated: 2015-07-27
Packaged: 2018-04-11 11:10:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4433249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amorphe_Hexe/pseuds/Amorphe_Hexe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A sort of follow-up to Rash Words.</p>
<p>After the Lich King's fall, Jaina isolates herself and reflects on all she's lost, her thoughts spiraling down into the darkness of the depression that has come over her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Darkness

Darkness.

She sat in the darkness, arms wrapped about herself. She’d tried to catch herself before she could start thinking too hard, but she’d been a little late.

_“Jaina usually runs a little late.”_

The memory of him saying those words was a faint one, but what had been happening at the time had cemented the distant sentence in her mind, even though it had floated to her on the wind. (She’d been fighting a pair of ogres, particularly ugly ones, who had thought that a nice young lady such as her was in the wrong place, and needed to be forcibly corrected.)

She would always be able to recognize Arthas’ voice. Even now, if she heard him from the foot of the Violet Citadel, she’d have been able to identify him by it.

That period of time, from those first words, until the last ones he had spoken to her

_“You don’t care about my people, and you don’t care about me. You would **never** have made a good queen.”_

periodically played through her head. She watched it like a spectator at a play, screaming as if doing so could affect the actors’ actions. She watched herself ride at Arthas’ side on a harrowing journey.

Like she had been all those years before, she was helpless to stop the horror unfolding before her eyes.

The undead didn’t shock her, not anymore. She’d fought too many of them (and befriended too many of them) to feel anything other than vague repulsion.

But every time she saw Arthas’ face in those memories, her stomach dropped.

It was easy to see, looking back, the gold that he radiated being tarnished.

Could she have stopped him?

Sure.

Why didn’t she?

Because-

_Why didn’t she?_

It didn’t mat-

**_Why didn’t she?_ **

_“You don’t care about me.”_

Why hadn’t she reached out to him, begged him harder, hit him, used her vast knowledge of magic on him, **_anything_**??

_“You don’t care about me.”_

Why hadn’t she?

Why didn’t she?

_“Jaina?”_

“I’m sorry, Arthas…”

She sobbed into her hands, curling in upon herself, shivering violently.

Why hadn’t she fought harder to keep him?

She didn’t deserve him.

She’d never deserved him.

“I’m sorry, Arthas, I’m sorry…”


End file.
